


i've got my pride and my rock band (day 3 - music)

by readbetweenthelions



Series: Bokukuro Week [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Anal Fingering, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2522480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readbetweenthelions/pseuds/readbetweenthelions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i have never once in my life been able to resist a band au. the tag says "rock band" but i really saw them as more pop punk. think fueled by ramen bands. because i know what my weaknesses are to.<br/>why do i keep writing aus when there's a day specifically for aus?? shhhhhhhhhhhh don't speak</p></blockquote>





	i've got my pride and my rock band (day 3 - music)

Kuroo sings loud into the microphone, his lips inches from Bokuto’s.

Mic sharing is always a crowd-pleaser, so they do it often. Not every night, but often. Bokuto sings harmony and plucks strings on his bass and his face is very, very close and Kuroo wants to kiss him. 

But he doesn’t. 

Bokuto looks at Kuroo with a smile in his eyes as they finish their shared lyric. The moments they’re close on stage are electric, damp with sweat and pumping adrenaline and the high of being adored by a concert hall full of fans. It’s different than being close off-stage, different than the way Bokuto throws his arm around Kuroo’s shoulders during warm-up and different from the way Bokuto’s leg presses against the length of Kuroo’s own when they’re sitting on the tour bus watching YouTube videos on Kuroo’s laptop. These are only minutes out of hour-long shows, the moments Bokuto is close to him like this. Bokuto tends to hang close to him during their sets anyway, usually dancing with his bass slung low on his hips a few feet from Kuroo, always a step away from sending the head of his instrument crashing into Kuroo’s torso – but that’s never happened. Not at a show, anyway. But the moments where they’re breathing each other’s air between the words of the songs they wrote together, well… 

The moment is over, and Kuroo sings through it, watching Bokuto wander off to stand closer to Lev. Bokuto will be back soon, and Kuroo knows it. For now, he lets him go. 

The noise of these concerts never stops taking Kuroo’s breath away. Every night he hears his own voice as he sings as if he were detached from it – the blaring sound from the amps attached to his band’s instruments and the amplification of his own voice and the cacophonous din of hundreds of fans singing along make it surreal, alien in every way from the rest of their lives and yet more familiar and natural than anything else. Kuroo thrives on this feeling. He isn’t alive anywhere else like he’s alive on stage. 

A minute later, Kuroo steps away from his microphone to let Akaashi take his solo. It’s the violin, as it almost always is, though some songs Akaashi plays some trumpet or saxophone. The crowd cheers, mostly the high-pitched squeals of teenage girls. The violin is electric like Bokuto’s bass and Lev’s guitar and music critics have praised their inclusion of such a _classical_ instrument in music that is decidedly _unclassical,_ saying it gives their music depth. Mostly, Kuroo is just glad Akaashi agreed to play with this band in the first place. He’s a top-class musician, could have played with a national orchestra instead of his friends’ pop punk band, but he’s here and this band wouldn’t be the same without him. Akaashi tips his cheek slightly towards his instrument, eyes heavy-lidded and focused on nothing in particular, simply recalling the music he’s practiced until it became second nature. 

Kuroo catches his breath and scans the crowd. He has always liked the way so many bodies undulate together, looking like a strange sea in the dark and the intermittent light of the lighting display. Sometimes, like now, he thinks about how when this band was starting off and they had nothing, the most expensive instrument among them Akaashi’s top-notch violin, and it makes his heart soar to know they’re realizing the dreams that kept them going back then. Kuroo waves a hand to encourage the crowd’s cheering, and readies himself to resume singing. 

Kuroo glances at Yaku, who watches him from behind the keyboard. Their parts begin at the same time, so they keep eye contact until they start simultaneously. The transition is seamless, worked through for hours and hours and played a couple times each week when on tour, practiced to perfection. Kuroo smirks into the microphone and turns his attention back to Bokuto. 

Bokuto, whose tank top and knee-length shorts don’t keep him cool enough to stop him from sweating, but who looks good glistening with sweat anyway. Bokuto, whose hair has gone a little flat from the sweat and the humidity of the air, but who still looks wicked and attractive regardless. Bokuto, who turns to Kuroo with a reckless grin and strides over to play at his side once again. Kuroo really does enjoy him. Adores him, really. Might even be a little in love with him. 

Kuroo holds the last note of the song for just a little longer than usual, longer than the album version of the song at any rate. That’s another crowd-pleaser, and Kuroo knows how to make them count. 

“Thank you,” Kuroo says as the sounds of their instruments fall away, “thank you.” 

Bokuto gives a few plucks of his bass strings, and Kuroo shoots a smile in his direction. Behind them, Tora taps his drumsticks rhythmically against the crash cymbals of his drum set. 

“Akaashi Keiji on the violin,” Kuroo says, giving a sweeping gesture towards where Akaashi stands far to Kuroo’s right. Akaashi gives a nod of acknowledgement as the crowd shrieks and roars. 

Kuroo glances down at the set list just in front of his mic stand. The next song begins with just the bass line. It’s one of Kuroo’s favorites – not for his own part, necessarily, but for Bokuto’s. Kuroo watches Bokuto finish half a bottle of water and glance at the other set list near Yaku’s keyboard. 

“You ready, Bokuto?” Kuroo asks, lips against the head of the microphone. Bokuto smiles at the frets of his bass and begins to pluck out the melody. This song makes Bokuto happy, and Kuroo loves to watch him play it. His wide, toothy smile makes sets that include this song some of Kuroo’s favorites. 

At the end of their set, Kuroo takes a deep, low bow, holding it long enough to let Tora fling his drumsticks out into the crowd over Kuroo’s back from the rear of the stage. Kuroo straightens in time to watch Bokuto pull the strap of his bass over his head and set the instrument on its stand. 

Backstage, Kuroo claps a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. Bokuto pulls him into a tight, sweaty hug. The exhilaration of concerts never gets old, and they’ll all be on the high of it all night. 

*** 

“Fuck off for a bit, will you, Lev?” Kuroo says. Lev frowns, looks between Kuroo and Bokuto with mild annoyance, but he doesn’t say anything. Kuroo rubs the fabric of the sleeve of the girl whose shoulders he has his arm around between his fingers. It’s soft, like her hair tickling his forearm. Another night, another concert, another girl. This situation isn’t new to Lev, nor to any of them. Akaashi and Yaku are already nowhere to be found, and Tora is standing twenty feet off, talking to a group of several girls and what looks to be one uncomfortable boyfriend. 

Lev, intelligently, fucks off. 

Kuroo turns his face to speak closer to the girl’s ear. “Where were we?” he says. Kuroo reaches with his other hand for the handle of the tour bus door. 

“Tell me your name again?” Bokuto asks. His hand brushes the girl’s hip, and she turns to look towards him. “It was loud in there. I want to make sure I have it right.” 

“Mai,” she tells him. 

“Mai,” Bokuto repeats. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” 

Kuroo laughs as he pulls open the door of their bus. Bokuto thinks he’s so _smooth;_ and maybe girls think he is, too, but Kuroo finds Bokuto’s attempts at it to be hilarious. Bokuto isn’t _smooth._ His lines are cheesy, and he’s a fool. A lovable fool, and one Kuroo likes very much, but a fool nonetheless. 

Kuroo leads the way onto the bus, letting go of the girl – Mai, he reminds himself – and taking a high step onto the stairs. Bokuto supports Mai with a hand holding hers as she steps up behind Kuroo, and then Bokuto steps in behind the two of them. 

They’ve done this before, and a _lot:_ hooking up with some girl or even a pair of them, him and Bokuto, sharing as they do with most things. Kuroo watches Bokuto kiss this girl and strip her out of her clothes, but he’s less watching the revealing of Mai’s naked body than he is the revealing of Bokuto’s. 

“You wanna have sex, right?” Bokuto asks, his lips against the skin of the girl’s neck. 

She nods. 

“With both of us?” Kuroo says, fingers of one hand reaching out to stroke the bare skin of her hips and the fingers of the other undoing the belt at his own waist. 

She nods again. Bokuto laughs. 

The three of them strip out of their clothes and kiss for a while on the tour bus’ couch. Bokuto runs his hands appreciatively over the curves of her body, and Kuroo cups her face, her breasts, her ass while he kisses her. Sometimes Bokuto watches Kuroo, and other times Kuroo watches Bokuto. 

“Please, fuck me,” Mai asks. Bokuto grins at her. Kuroo grins at Bokuto. 

Kuroo stands and strides back farther on the bus, and pulls a roll of condoms from one of the drawers under his bunk. As he heads back to the couch, Kuroo tears a pair of condoms from the roll, then tears them apart, handing one to Bokuto. Bokuto flashes him a grin and they both tear the packages open at nearly the same time, though Kuroo gets his on faster. 

Kuroo sits on the couch and gives a gentle tug on Mai’s wrist, indicating for her to come closer. She straddles him, sitting back enough that Kuroo can guide his cock into her, which he does as he presses a kiss to her collarbone. 

“Mm,” Bokuto says, kneeling between his legs and reaching around in front of Mai to touch her. Kuroo lays back and thrusts into her, slowly at first, then gaining speed. 

Kuroo doesn’t hold onto the girl while he fucks her, and doesn’t look at her, either. The hand that doesn’t rest behind his head holds Bokuto’s bicep, and his eyes watch Bokuto’s face. Bokuto isn’t looking back at Kuroo, is looking down at his own hands, one cupping Mai’s breast and the other rubbing her clit in time with Kuroo’s thrusts. Yeah, it’s definitely better that Bokuto is looking at the girl. This way he won’t see how desperately Kuroo wants to be fucking Bokuto instead. 

The girl comes before Kuroo does, with a whining moan that Kuroo suspects to be largely theatrical, though he can feel that her orgasm isn’t. She comes a second time when Bokuto fucks her after Kuroo has had his turn. Afterwards, the girl, whose name Kuroo is forgetting though he and Bokuto have spent a good portion of an hour fucking her, puts on her clothes in a giddy daze and smiles copiously at the two of them as she wanders off the bus. 

“I’ll text Akaashi,” Bokuto says, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. “Let ‘em know it’s cool for them to come in.” 

Kuroo nods. It would be _considerate_ of them to at least take the trash bin with the pair of used condoms out to the venue’s dumpster before their bandmates got back on the bus, but Kuroo’s limbs feel heavy with post-coital laziness and that means that if anyone is going to do it, it will be Bokuto, which means it’s not happening at all. 

Kuroo lets his eyes rest on Bokuto, who is pulling a clean shirt on over his head. Kuroo watches the movement of the muscles in his back, taking in the sight appreciatively. The two of them sharing a girl is nice and all, but Kuroo _really_ wants to know what it’s like to fuck Bokuto. 

“Hey, Kou?” Kuroo says. 

“Huh?” Bokuto says, turning to look at Kuroo. 

Kuroo hesitates, not sure what he’d been intending to say in the first place. “Nothing,” he says, “never mind.” 

Kuroo stands and retreats towards the back of the bus, looking for some pants to pull on before their bandmates return. He shouldn’t think so much about Bokuto like that. Bokuto would probably never go for it – Bokuto is _straight,_ not gay, bi like Kuroo. Feeling this way for Bokuto could ruin not just their friendship, but their whole band. Kuroo thinks about Bokuto’s face when he was fucking that girl and knows he’s more than a little fucked himself. 

*** 

They’re sharing the mic again, like they do not every night but often enough, and Bokuto sings harmony and plucks strings on his bass and his face is very, very close and Kuroo wants to kiss him. 

So he does. 

Kuroo isn’t sure why exactly he does it, tonight of all the nights he could have in the past, isn’t sure before or after or even _during._ It’s the end of their lyric, and Bokuto is close enough that Kuroo can smell his breath even over the smell of sweat and the crowd’s breathing and the faint smell of cigarette smoke, and Kuroo reaches a hand up and cups the back of his neck and pulls Bokuto close to him. Their lips meet just above the microphone and move against each other’s for a moment that stretches for eons. 

Kuroo releases Bokuto when he realizes what he’s just done. He pulls away, and stares at Bokuto for a split second, lips parted in surprise at his own actions. Bokuto stares back. He blinks once, then turns his face down, looking at his bass and reorienting himself to it. The moment breaks and the two of them take steps backwards from each other. Kuroo rallies for the next lyric, but can’t ignore the breathless, heart-stopping tightness of his chest. 

Kuroo feels horrifyingly on-edge. He watches Bokuto out of the corner of his eye. Bokuto isn’t acting any different, but – what is he thinking? Kuroo could swear he’d felt Bokuto kiss him back, just a little, somewhere in that second or two. Or is Kuroo imagining that, is that wishful thinking? Is Bokuto disgusted? Has Kuroo just fucked it all up? Kuroo sings and tries to forget about it. 

When they have finished the last song of their set, Kuroo takes a deep bow towards the audience. His band is close on his heels when he walks off-stage. Bokuto is closest of all. 

The sound of the crowd is muffled backstage. Kuroo pulls his sweat-soaked shirt away from his chest and heaves a breath. Bokuto is going to ask him about that kiss, Kuroo can feel it. Well, Kuroo can’t blame him. 

“Tetsu,” Bokuto says. 

Kuroo pretends not to hear over the pumping bass of the concert hall’s speakers, loud even backstage. He grabs a towel, rubs at the back of his neck and then dabs sweat from his face. He can’t think about that kiss. He shouldn’t have done it. He should have asked, maybe, before the concert. He should have given Bokuto a _stage kiss,_ or something, if he’d really wanted to get the crowd riled up. He should have… he should have… 

“What do you want to do for the encore?” Yaku asks. Now that Kuroo is listening for it, he can hear it, the chanting for _one more song, one more song._

“Shit,” Kuroo says. He runs a hand through his hair to gather his thoughts. “Um. Let’s do… Let’s do _Curtain._ ” That’s not the full song title, but they all know what it means. 

“What about a second?” Yaku presses. 

Kuroo rubs his palms against his face. He doesn’t want to _do_ a second encore song – he barely wants to do the first. He wants to hide somewhere, somewhere where Bokuto _isn’t,_ so that he can sort out his thoughts and maybe come up with something clever and smooth to say. He wracks his brain for something they didn’t play in their main set. 

“ _Desiderata,_ ” Kuroo announces at last. “If,” he cautions, “we do a second song at all.” 

Yaku and Akaashi exchange a glance. Another time, Kuroo might be worried about that, but he just doesn’t have it in him right now. 

“Tetsu!” Bokuto says again. 

“Later,” Kuroo tells him. He tosses the towel aside and beckons to his band. “Come on.” 

They march back out onto the stage, to the cheers of the crowd. Tora waves his arms for them to cheer more, and settles behind his drum set. Yaku slips behind his keyboard, and the rest of them take up their instruments. Kuroo shuts his eyes for a minute and lets the sound of hundreds of yelling fans wash over him, drowning out his concerns over the imminent conversation with Bokuto for a small moment. 

Bokuto plucks a few notes on his bass, and the reverberation feels deafening. 

Kuroo sucks in a deep breath. “Alright, one more song,” he promises. This one starts with piano, so Kuroo lets Yaku take the lead. 

The cheering is loud enough after the first encore that Kuroo _has_ to do the second song. For this one he stands with his toes over the edge of the front of the stage, as much to escape the stage as to draw close to the fans in front of it. 

Kuroo smiles at the crowd as he steps away from the microphone for the last time tonight, belying the sickening twist of anxiety in his guts. He can’t escape the conversation he and Bokuto are going to have, but he wants to anyway. 

If Bokuto was a different sort of person, Kuroo might be able to get away from him. He could make an excuse of some sort, or simply slip away, but he’ll have no luck. Kuroo hardly takes a moment to towel himself off before retreating from the rest of his band, headed for the bus or just outside or _anywhere else._

“Hey, Kuroo – ” Bokuto says. He follows Kuroo down flights of stairs and through dim hallways, the sort you find in venues all over the place, the kind that are familiar even though they aren’t. 

Kuroo strides away from Bokuto as quickly as his long legs will let him, but Bokuto keeps pace. “What _is_ it, Bokuto,” Kuroo says, though he knows. 

“You know,” Bokuto says. “Tetsu – ” 

“It didn’t mean anything!” Kuroo says sharply. He regrets the tone instantly, but keeps walking. 

Bokuto follows. 

It’s never been easy to shake Bokuto off, and Kuroo has rarely wanted to. Kuroo is running from the problem and from the awkwardness of it all, he knows, and he _shouldn’t_ , but he is anyway. Kuroo strides away from the door of the concert hall and towards anywhere else. Bokuto follows close on his heels. 

“Hey, hey,” Bokuto says. “Hang on a minute. Kuroo!” 

Kuroo steels himself and ducks into the alley the two of them are passing. It’s darker here, so Kuroo doesn’t _exactly_ have to look Bokuto in the face, though it’s bright enough still from the orange light of the streetlamps that Kuroo can still see Bokuto’s expression. 

“What?” Kuroo asks. He knows the answer. 

“You kissed me,” Bokuto says. “On stage.” 

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. 

“So…” 

“So, it was – ” Kuroo starts, but movement in front of the alley catches his eye. It’s Tora, wandering by with his arm around a small girl with fried-looking bleached hair. He makes deliberate eye contact with Kuroo, grins at him, and shifts his arm around the girl’s waist. Another night, another concert, another girl. Just, this time, it might not be Kuroo and Bokuto who will be hogging the bus. 

“Tetsu,” Bokuto says, voice jerking Kuroo back to the situation at hand. 

The situation… Bokuto. He’d kissed Bokuto. Really, and for real, _kissed_ him. “…We should talk,” Kuroo says. 

“We should,” Bokuto agrees. 

Kuroo had suggested it, but now anxiety wells up in him. What does he say to Bokuto? What is there to say? Where do they go from here? Kuroo wants to escape. “Not now.” 

Bokuto swallows. He searches Kuroo’s face for a moment, then takes a reluctant step back. Kuroo thinks he should say something, even though he had just suggested talking and then refused to talk. He should say something. He can’t think of anything. In the end, Kuroo simply steps out of the alley and lets Bokuto follow him. 

They meet several groups of fans, Bokuto and Kuroo greeting the first few at each other’s side. But there’s a distance between them that feels like a wall, and they soon move apart to talk to separate groups away from each other. There is a girl who holds Kuroo’s hand a little too long when she shakes it and looks directly into his eyes while she does it, and if this were another night, and if Bokuto was at his side instead of thirty feet away, and if he hadn’t kissed Bokuto not half an hour before, then Kuroo would probably be bringing this girl onto the bus with Bokuto on her other side. 

The number of fans dwindles slowly, but almost not slow enough for Kuroo. He knows he’s going to have to talk to Bokuto after this, when he no longer has the excuse of meeting fans, and he still doesn’t know what to say. What is there to say? 

When Kuroo finally retreats to the bus, Bokuto follows him. Kuroo swallows apprehension and sits on the couch, letting Bokuto sit beside him, a careful distance of about a foot between them. Silence stretches for a moment, the two of them alternately looking at each other and looking away. 

“You said – you wanted to talk,” Bokuto says. There’s a pause where Bokuto looks away again, then looks back at Kuroo. “So, talk,” he adds. 

“I – we kissed,” Kuroo says, carefully, as if he’s stepping on thin and rapidly melting ice. 

“We did,” Bokuto confirms. 

“I don’t really…” Kuroo says, trailing off. He can’t think of anything to say. It’s the alley all over again, but this time he can’t panic and run off. 

“I’m not mad,” Bokuto says. “It’s – it’s okay. Um.” 

“I’m – sorry,” Kuroo says. “I shouldn’t have… you’re not… well.” 

Bokuto shifts where he sits, glancing at Kuroo. “I don’t – I don’t believe you, that it meant nothing. You said that earlier, that it didn’t mean anything.” 

Kuroo swallows nervously. “Why? Er… what makes you not believe me?” 

“I don’t know,” Bokuto says. He shrugs, glances everywhere but at Kuroo. “Maybe ‘cause _I_ want it to mean something.” 

Kuroo feels his heart pounding in his chest, feels the pulsing of blood in all his limbs and digits and hot in his face and ears. “What do you want it to mean?” 

Bokuto looks at him levelly, but Kuroo can see the way he grips his own knees for a sense of stability. “What did you mean by it?” he asks, probing. 

This isn’t going anywhere. Kuroo can’t keep doing this, can’t keep dancing around this subject. “Kou,” Kuroo says. “Come on.” 

Bokuto swallows, then shrugs. “Maybe I’m into you,” he admits. He lets his eyes rest on Kuroo’s. Kuroo can see uncertainty there, maybe even a little fear. Kuroo wants to know what it is, but he’s almost certain he already knows, considering he himself must be wearing the exact same expression. 

“You’re – you’re _straight,_ ” Kuroo insists. 

“I mean,” Bokuto says, “I don’t really think so. I thought I was but I liked kissing you, and I like _you,_ and I think it’s – I think I like guys, too, and girls, but I think I _really like you._ ” 

“You – liked kissing me?” Kuroo says. Bokuto had said a lot more than that, but Kuroo’s brain is stuck on the first bit, trying to process too much information at once. “You’re…” 

“Into you, yeah.” 

“You wanna… do you wanna kiss me again?” 

“That wouldn’t be so bad. It would be good.” 

There’s a silent moment where Kuroo studies Bokuto’s expression incredulously. Bokuto looks serious – well, not exactly _serious,_ but _sincere._

“You really… you’re into guys.” Kuroo pauses. “You like _me._ Like, _like like_ me.” 

Bokuto laughs. “You sound like you’re in kindergarten, dude. Yeah, I like you. _Like like._ ” 

“Koutarou,” Kuroo breathes, and leans forward to catch Bokuto in a kiss. 

Bokuto’s lips are warm and wet and just a little chapped against his own. Kuroo kisses him hard, not the gentle, momentary kiss they’d shared onstage, but deeper and with much greater joy. Bokuto lifts his hands to cup the back of Kuroo’s neck, Bokuto’s callused fingertips brushing Kuroo’s nape. 

Kuroo pulls back a little. He laughs with his lips centimeters from Bokuto’s. Bokuto grins back at him. Kuroo presses a quick kiss to his lips, then another, longer, deeper kiss. Gently, Kuroo pushes Bokuto backwards on the couch. They kiss with Kuroo lying on top of Bokuto, his hands in Bokuto’s hair and Bokuto’s hands on Kuroo’s waist. 

There’s noise from the front of the bus, and Kuroo and Bokuto break apart and lift their heads to look in that direction. The rest of their bandmates are crowding onto the bus, and they stare at Bokuto and Kuroo where they lie for a moment. 

“It’s about fucking time,” Yaku says. 

*** 

Things changed a little once Bokuto and Kuroo started hooking up, and then, finally, dating. 

There’s a picture on Bokuto’s Twitter of the two of them shirtless and Bokuto kissing Kuroo’s cheek – the caption reads “ _#BokurooISreal_ ” and it has been retweeted thousands of times. There’s a tattoo on Kuroo’s hip of an owl, one that Bokuto kissed for a long time before he let Kuroo take a picture to post to Instagram. There are pictures of them kissing at a club that Kuroo would have preferred not to be taken, but Bokuto insists that he likes the way Kuroo looks in them, and Kuroo has to admit, they’re cute in a trashy sort of way. There’s an album in the works with half a dozen songs Kuroo wrote for Bokuto, and one that Bokuto wrote for Kuroo. 

Things are different. But definitely not in a bad way. 

Another night, another concert. 

“You’re sweet girls, really,” Kuroo says. The night air is cool and a slight breeze chills him as it dries the sweat on his body, left over from the concert. “We’re glad you came out tonight.” 

Bokuto looks at Kuroo. If this were another time, these two girls standing in front of them would have been the type they would sweep onto the tour bus behind them so they could have a little fun for the next hour or so. The way it stands, however, is the pinky of the hand that isn’t holding Kuroo’s cigarette is brushing the pinky of Bokuto’s hand, and these girls don’t have any part in that. So what if that whole rock star, hooking-up-with-groupies thing is over? It’s better with just the two of them, anyway. Kuroo flicks the butt of the cigarette away. 

“Have a good night, ladies,” Bokuto says. He gives them a wave and a grin, and lets Kuroo lead the way onto the bus. 

When the door of the bus is closed behind them, Kuroo reaches back and entwines his fingers with Bokuto’s. He pulls Bokuto towards the back of the bus and their bunks. Concerts are exhausting, but the emotional high of them is best when rounded out in only one way. 

Kuroo sits on the edge of his bunk, and Bokuto leans down to kiss him. Kuroo slips his hands under Bokuto’s shirt, feeling Bokuto’s abs, skin a little sticky with almost-dried sweat. Bokuto pushes a knee between Kuroo’s legs, firm against his crotch, the pressure feeling urgent. 

Kuroo breaks away from the kiss and lies back on his bed. He circles his fingers around Bokuto’s wrist and pulls Bokuto on top of him. 

“You looked sexy tonight,” Kuroo says, tracing the line of Bokuto’s collarbone from his sternum out towards his arm with a finger. 

“ _You_ look sexy _every_ night,” Bokuto counters. 

Kuroo laughs. “So do you,” he says. He catches Bokuto in a kiss without another word, lets his arms snake up to wrap themselves around Bokuto’s neck, to pull him close and keep him there. 

Bokuto smiles against Kuroo’s lips for a moment, then pulls away slightly. He bends his head to press a line of kisses to Kuroo’s neck. Kuroo hums low in his throat and grabs for Bokuto’s hand. Bokuto’s fingers slip easily between Kuroo’s. With his free hand, Bokuto pulls aside the collar of Kuroo’s shirt, trailing kisses over Kuroo’s collarbones. 

Bokuto pushes Kuroo’s shirt up until Kuroo reaches down to help him pull it off. Bokuto’s hands stroke the curve of Kuroo’s waist, fingers brushing the bare skin from his ribs to his hips. Kuroo kisses him, their tongues sliding against each other’s, the wet sounds of their lips and the panting of their breaths the only sounds on the bus. 

“I wanted you so bad on stage tonight,” Bokuto murmurs against Kuroo’s skin. “I want you…” 

Kuroo grinds his hips up against Bokuto’s. “You can have me,” he says. “You _do_ have me.” 

“Mm.” 

Bokuto sits up to strip off his own shirt, then reaches down to grope Kuroo through Kuroo’s jeans. Kuroo pushes his hips into Bokuto’s hand for more sensation. He wraps his arms around Bokuto’s neck and kisses his throat, his collarbone, his chest. 

“I want to suck you off,” he murmurs, breath hot on Bokuto’s skin. 

“What a coincidence,” Bokuto says. His palm rubs along the length of Kuroo’s rapidly growing erection. “I was going to say the same thing.” 

Kuroo looks at him, and they grin at each other for a moment. Kuroo reaches down between them and undoes the button of Bokuto’s jeans, then pushes his hand into Bokuto’s pants to grip his cock. Bokuto is mostly hard already, and Kuroo strokes his cock as he helps Bokuto wriggle out of his pants and underwear altogether. 

Once naked, Bokuto finds himself pushed onto his back on the bed. Kuroo positions himself on all fours with his face inches from Bokuto’s cock. 

“You, too,” Bokuto says, lifting his head to look down at Kuroo. “Your pants.” 

Kuroo laughs and sits up for a moment to wriggle out of his jeans. Once he has discarded them in a pile with Bokuto’s, he bends again, this time gripping Bokuto’s cock at the base. 

Bokuto props himsef up on his elbows for a better look at Kuroo. Kuroo reaches up a hand to stroke the hard lines of Bokuto’s abs for a moment, then bends his neck until his lips are centimeters from Bokuto’s cock. Kuroo pulls Bokuto’s foreskin back and licks gently at the tip of Bokuto’s cock, looking up at Bokuto’s face as he does so. 

“ _Tease,_ ” Bokuto says. Kuroo grins. He lets Bokuto’s cock rest on his tongue for a moment, then takes Bokuto fully in his mouth. 

Kuroo works his mouth around Bokuto’s cock, tongue and lips sliding up and down along Bokuto’s length. He swallows extra saliva, tongue rubbing the underside of Bokuto’s cock, enough to make Bokuto moan low in his throat. 

With one hand, Kuroo strokes the base of Bokuto’s cock as he sucks and licks. The other hand holds steady on Bokuto’s hip, stabilizing himself and also keeping Bokuto’s hips from bucking up too much at unexpected times. After a minute or two, one of Bokuto’s hands slips down to tangle his fingers in Kuroo’s hair. 

“Tetsu, wait,” Bokuto says. 

Kuroo pauses, lips still pressed to the head of Bokuto’s cock. He looks up at Bokuto from under his lashes and the fringe of his hair. 

“Come here,” Bokuto says, lifting Kuroo’s face by the chin. 

Kuroo slinks upwards towards Bokuto. Bokuto kisses him, several smaller kisses and then a longer one, tasting himself on Kuroo’s tongue. After a minute, Bokuto pulls away. 

“Turn around,” he says. 

Kuroo feels a little thrill of excitement. He turns around, kneeling on all fours over Bokuto, facing towards Bokuto’s feet and with his hips aligned with Bokuto’s face. 

“Like this?” Kuroo asks, glancing back at Bokuto with a smirk. 

“Yeah, like that,” Bokuto says. His hands stroke the back of Kuroo’s thighs, all the way up to grip the cheeks of Kuroo’s ass. “Just like that…” 

Kuroo gives a quiet chuckle and bends his head towards Bokuto’s cock. He takes him in his mouth again, pushing his head down far enough to let the head of Bokuto’s cock reach his throat for just a moment before he pulls off a little. Bokuto groans loudly. 

“Mm – ahh…” Bokuto moans. “Yeah, that’s…” 

Kuroo circles his tongue around the head of Bokuto’s cock, then closes his lips and pushes his mouth down around Bokuto’s shaft. Bokuto gasps and raises his hands to Kuroo’s hips. He pulls Kuroo back a little until his hips are aligned with Bokuto’s face. 

Kuroo feels Bokuto’s tongue brush the tip of his cock for a moment, then Bokuto’s hand reaches up and grips Kuroo at the base. Bokuto’s lips kiss a line from just above his fingers up to the head of Kuroo’s cock. He slicks his lips with his tongue, then guides Kuroo’s cock into his mouth. 

“Kou…” Kuroo breathes. His hips buck forwards – or rather, downwards – a little, forcing himself a little further into Bokuto’s mouth. He forgets for a moment that he is supposed to be sucking Bokuto’s dick as well. After taking a moment to pant words he can scarcely make out himself about how _good_ Bokuto’s mouth feels, he bends his neck and returns to pleasuring Bokuto. 

There’s a couple minutes where they stay that way, sucking each other off, Bokuto’s hands holding Kuroo’s hips in place. Kuroo makes a small noise of complaint as Bokuto lays his head back and lets Kuroo’s cock fall from his mouth. 

Kuroo doesn’t have long to wait, though. Bokuto brings his fingers to his mouth and wets a pair of them with saliva. He reaches up and pushes them into Kuroo’s hole, slowly at first. Kuroo moans around Bokuto’s cock and pushes backwards, encouraging Bokuto to finger him faster, harder. 

With his free hand, Bokuto guides Kuroo’s cock back into his mouth. He sucks at the tip and works his fingers around the base. Kuroo’s rhythm as he sucks Bokuto’s dick grows erratic, lost in a haze of arousal. Kuroo’s hips jump as Bokuto’s fingers press against Kuroo’s prostate. 

Kuroo’s moan of pleasure is muffled. “Ah, Koutarou,” Kuroo breathes, lifting his mouth from Bokuto’s cock. 

There’s a wet sound as Bokuto pulls off of Kuroo’s cock. “You like that?” he asks. He sounds pretty confident in Kuroo’s answer before he even hears it. His fingers rub steadily at Kuroo’s prostate. 

“ _Yeah,_ ” Kuroo sighs. “Mm, make me come, Koutarou…” 

Bokuto does his level best. He moves his mouth faster on Kuroo’s cock, timing the bobbing of his head with the small, involuntary thrusts of Kuroo’s hips, keeping his fingers pushing deep inside Kuroo. Kuroo feels the familiar warmth of orgasm surge in his body. 

“Koutarou, I’m gonna _come_ – ” Bokuto takes his mouth off Kuroo’s cock, but works it hard with the hand not still fingering Kuroo. Bokuto opens his mouth wide and Kuroo can feel Bokuto’s breath warm on his cock as he reaches his climax. 

“ _Ah…_ ” Kuroo moans. His cock twitches and cum spills onto Bokuto’s tongue. 

“Mmm,” Bokuto says, closing his mouth and swallowing. He keeps his hand rubbing the sensitive head of Kuroo’s cock. Kuroo’s body jerks against the overstimulation, but he keeps his mouth working around Bokuto’s cock. He can taste Bokuto’s pre-cum on the back of his tongue and knows Bokuto must be getting close as well. 

Kuroo works him all the way through his orgasm, keeping his lips closed around the head of Bokuto’s cock as he comes, semen filling Kuroo’s mouth and coating his tongue. Kuroo tips his head up and swallows, then takes several panting breaths. 

“You’re amazing,” Bokuto says. He wiggles his fingers a little, remembering that they’re still inside Kuroo, then slowly draws them out. Kuroo swings his leg back over Bokuto’s body so that he’s no longer straddling him, then collapses on his back on the bed. Bokuto sits up to turn around so that head is oriented in the same direction as Kuroo’s. 

Once Bokuto is lying down, Kuroo throws an arm over him and hugs him close, holding him tight around the waist. Bokuto tangles his fingers in Kuroo’s hair, getting them thoroughly stuck in the natural bedhead that’s only exacerbated by a sweaty, energetic performance onstage and a round of sex afterwards. 

“Kou,” Kuroo says. “…I love you.” 

Bokuto lifts his head and turns his face toward Kuroo’s. He gives Kuroo a swift kiss, then lays his head back down. “I love you, too, Tetsu.” 

Kuroo smiles softly for a moment. “Put some fucking clothes on,” he says, putting on a mock-serious face as he sits up, intending to follow his own advice. “We’ve got bandmates who’ll want this bus too, ya know.” 

Bokuto laughs, and Kuroo grins. There’s seven stops left in this tour – seven more nights, seven more concerts, but only one person for each of them.

**Author's Note:**

> i have never once in my life been able to resist a band au. the tag says "rock band" but i really saw them as more pop punk. think fueled by ramen bands. because i know what my weaknesses are to.  
> why do i keep writing aus when there's a day specifically for aus?? shhhhhhhhhhhh don't speak


End file.
